


essentialcas's S10 Finale

by allfordean



Series: Fic Requests [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Season Finale, season 10 finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 08:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3971338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allfordean/pseuds/allfordean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In my perfect world, everything is (mostly) sunshine and rainbows at the end of the season. And there's Destiel. Duh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	essentialcas's S10 Finale

**Author's Note:**

> For [fiercedean](http://fiercedean.tumblr.com/).

Castiel remained still on the floor, lying in his own blood and staring numbly at the angel blade beside him for what felt like hours, but was really only a minute or two. He couldn’t stay there like that, he knew it. Dean needed him, even if he refused to acknowledge it. Cas, Sam… they had work to do.

It took a moment for the angel to heal himself. Not because he wasn’t capable, but because he had to fight the broken voice in the back of his mind telling him to let go, that there was no point anymore, that it was too late for Dean.

Coughing as he sat up, Castiel pulled his cell phone out of his bloodied coat’s pocket and dialed Sam. He stood and walked over to the pile of books and Dean’s things, thinning his lips as he caught sight of a photo of a young Dean beside his mother.

“Castiel?” the younger Winchester answered, his voice tight with concern. “Are you home? Where’s Dean?”

“Gone,” was all Castiel could manage to say as he surveyed the lifeless bodies at his feet.

“He- He left? To where?!”

Castiel stared sadly at the young boy lying on the floor, Sam’s voice only reaching him as background noise.

“...Cas? Are you okay?” A pause. “Did he do something?”

Blinking hard, Castiel turned away from the scene and swallowed the lump in his throat. “He killed an innocent boy, Sam. And he…,” the angel took a deep breath, closing his eyes as he shook his head. “He nearly killed _me_.”

Sam was silent on the other end for a few seconds before he said, “I’m coming back. Stay there, Castiel. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, I’m… I’m fine,” Castiel lied.

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

Too many times had Dean looked in the mirror and not recognized his own face. Be it that he was covered in blood, or his eyes weren’t the right color, or he simply didn’t feel like he knew the man staring back at him.

This time, he was covered in blood, _and_ his eyes weren’t right -- they were blue. He knew the face in the mirror. It was Castiel’s.

Before Dean could blink, the image was gone, and he was left standing in the motel bathroom, struggling to breathe. His lower lip trembled as he brought a tightly balled fist up to break the mirror, the cuts it left on his hands stinging less than the guilt that gnawed at his stomach. He felt sick, and he knew it wasn’t just what the mark had done to him. He needed help.

So, he decided to summon the last, strongest being he could think of that might help him.

Death.

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

“Castiel?”

Sam’s presence was barely enough to bring Castiel out of his state of shock. When the Winchester arrived, Cas had been sitting on the edge of Dean’s bed, staring blankly at the wall. He was holding the picture of Dean and Mary in his hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth across the paper. Upon hearing his friend’s voice, the angel looked down at the photo and shook his head. “What happened to the both of you?” he wondered aloud, though his voice was hardly above a whisper.

Glancing down at the item in Castiel’s hand, Sam thinned his lips and shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said. “Angels? Demons? Fate?”

“God,” Castiel concluded. “I hate him.”

“Cas…”

Cas shook his head, biting his tongue as he blinked back a tear. “He left. When we needed him the most, he was nowhere to be found. He could have saved Dean. And you. _Multiple_ times.”

“There’s a theory that he saved you, multiple times,” Sam pointed out, moving to sit beside his friend. “I mean, how else would you have been able to come back so many times?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Castiel sighed. “He’s useless if he doesn’t-” Cas stopped himself, clenching his jaw. He stood, dropping the picture on the bed. “We need to find a cure for the mark,” he said as he walked into the hall, making his way toward the bunker’s door as Sam followed behind him. “Dean is too far gone to fight it anymore, I… We need to save him, even if he doesn’t want us to.”

Sam nodded. “We can. Rowena can translate the book-”

“Sam, the book might make things worse than they already are, for all we know. We need to look for another alternative.” Castiel looked thoughtful for a moment, glancing around the room as Sam took a seat at the table. “Maybe there’s another way. A way for him to live with it. A way we haven’t discovered yet. Maybe if we can finally find God-”

“Look, Cas, the only way I _know_ how to save my brother is to cure the mark. And the only way I know how to do _that_ is with whatever spell is in that book!” 

“And what of the consequences?” Castiel asked. “Do you really think Dean will be better off if we release some other monster into the world? Or become monsters ourselves? How do we know there isn’t another way?”

Sam gave Castiel a sympathetic frown and shook his head. “We don’t have time for another way. This spell is taking long enough as it is. But we’re so close. All we have to do is… Crowley,” he said bitterly. “I have to kill him before Rowena will finish her part, but he got away.”

Castiel hesitated before saying, “I’ll _make_ Rowena translate the book. But, if the spell sounds too dangerous, we won’t do it. We’ll search for alternatives.”

“Fine, but you are going to have to face the fact that there may not _be_ any alternatives. And we really are running on limited time, here, Cas.”

Nodding, Castiel began walking to the door. “I understand.”

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

“Dean Winchester.”

The cursed hunter turned around to face Death. Despite the curse telling him he’d survive, a chill ran down his back as when he met the creature’s cold stare.

“You seem to be under the impression that offering me pizza will make up for the amount of time you make me waste,” Death said, picking up a slice that had been set on the table before him. “What is it you want me to clean up for you this time?” He paused to take a bite of the pizza, waiting until he swallowed to cock a brow and say, “It’s that gift from Cain, isn’t it?”

“I need it off,” Dean said through gritted teeth. “I don’t care what it’ll cost me.” He covered the angry mark with his hand, pushing on it and hissing when it burned him. “It’s getting out of control. I almost… I can’t go down that road again.”

Death nodded. “I could remove the mark.” He stepped closer to the hunter. “There would be one condition, however.”

“Name it.”

“Do you recall the favor you did me, playing Death?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I remember. The condition?”

“I want you to do it again.”

“Done,” Dean said without hesitating, nodding firmly as he held out his arm.

“Never make a deal without knowing all the details, Dean,” Death warned. “If you do this, it will be the end of my job. You will become Death, and you’ll remain that way forever. Unless you can find someone foolish enough to take over for you.”

Dean dropped his arm to his side. “Well, _that_ is just fantastic,” he said, feeling the hope drain from him with each word. He bit his lip, blinking at the dirty motel floor for a moment. _Forever_ , he thought. _Taking life, killing… Well, at least I wouldn’t be doing it like… like this._ He glanced at the mark, clenching his jaw when it seemed to flicker in anger at the idea.

“The choice is yours, Dean. But make it quick. I have a job to do,” Death said. “Or, perhaps _you_ will have a job to do.”

Looking back up at the creature in front of him, Dean closed his eyes as he breathed, “Okay.”

“Speak up, Dean,” Death said, as though he hadn’t heard.

Dean glared at him. “I said ‘ _okay_ ’, you-”

“Careful, Dean. I still have the power to take life, and that includes yours.”

Dropping his head, Dean sighed. “I don’t even care anymore. Just… Anything that isn’t _this_. Please, just… get it off of me.”

Death nodded, but moved away from the hunter and instead took a seat at the table. “I’ll be leaving after this,” he said. “I’m going to enjoy my last meal on Earth, so your little problem will have to wait a moment.”

“Sure,” Dean managed to say, too busy wincing at the mark on his arm to worry about much else.

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

“And _another_ thing-”

“Crowley!” Sam shouted at the demon as he entered the basement where he’d expected to find a single witch. “You’re-”

“In the middle of monologuing before killing my mother, thank you, now leave!” Crowley extended a hand and sent the hunter flying into the wall, not taking an eye off of Rowena, whose neck was in his other hand.

Castiel stepped in soon after, glaring at the demon. “Crowley.”

“Oh, _come on_ ,” Crowley complained, tossing his choking mother over the table. “What’s going on?”

“We’re _curing_ my brother!”

Crowley’s brows shot up as he turned to Sam, who was getting to his feet. “Oh, is that it? And you need dear mummy’s help? Well, I _don’t bloody care_. Dean’s _far_ more likeable this way, anyhow. Why don’t you just move on?”

Castiel put his hand in front of him, beginning to glow. “You’re wasting our time,” he said through gritted teeth, preparing to smite the demon.

“Wait!”

All heads turned to face Rowena, who had regained composure and was standing with the book in her hands.

“Oh, Mother, I didn’t know you cared,” Crowley said dryly.

Rolling her eyes, the witch walked up to Sam, holding the book out. “We’ll need him to complete the spell. See,” she said, pointing at the code, “this here says we need demon blood.”

“I’ll be happy to collect it,” Castiel said, moving fast to Crowley’s side and forcing him against the wall.

“Don’t get _too_ excited,” Rowena sang with a smirk. “This spell requires quite the sacrifice from you, as well.”

Castiel turned to squint at the redhead, keeping her son pinned tightly. He shot a concerned glance at Sam before asking, “What?”

“Your _grace_ , dear.” Rowena tossed her hair over her shoulder, walking to the table to set the book down. She leaned against the table as she said, “A rather important ingredient, I would say.”

Castiel’s mouth went dry. “My… grace.” Of course. The grace he’d just gotten back. The grace that made him useful. The grace that kept him from being vulnerable. The grace that Dean would be _pissed_ to find out was sacrificed for his sake.

“Castiel…,” Sam began, trailing off when the angel shot him a silencing glare.

“You want to cure your brother, no matter the cost,” Cas stated. _So do I_ , he couldn’t bring himself to say. _I just didn’t think it would cost me this_.

Sam avoided his friend’s gaze as he nodded. “Cas, it’s a lot to ask, and I don’t expect you to-”

“It’s the only way we know for sure how to save Dean.” Castiel clenched his jaw, shaking his head as he lowered his gaze to the book on the table. “I’ll… I’ll do it.”

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

The ingredients were all ready to go, waiting in the bowl in front of Rowena. Crowley stood in a demon trap beside her, with Sam on his other side. Castiel was across from the table, rubbing absently at the cut on his neck.

“Are we ready?” Rowena asked, glancing around the table.

“Do it,” Sam demanded.

Castiel, for the first time in a long time, prayed to God that everything would turn out alright.

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

Death had his hand over Dean’s arm when it suddenly began to glow. Dean winced, squeezing his fist as the mark burned from the inside out. After a few torturous seconds, the pain was gone, and Dean looked down at his bare arm. “It’s gone,” he said, his breathing heavy.

“That wasn’t my doing,” Death said, shaking his head. “I suppose our deal is off.”

Dean looked up and frowned at the being, cocking his head. “What do you mean it wasn’t you?”

“Your brother and that angel must have found another way to save you. I suspect they might be in need of your help,” Death said, grabbing Dean’s shoulder. “Luckily for all of you, I’m in a good mood.” 

In an instant, they were gone.

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

When Dean arrived with Death in the middle of the basement, Crowley was at his feet. It took Dean a mere second to register that he was unconscious, if not dead. He looked up to see Castiel, his eyes agitated and dripping blood, holding his angel blade and moving quickly past Dean as if he wasn’t even there.

“Dean!” The younger Winchester was cornered in the back of the room, weaponless.

Castiel continued toward Sam, raising his blade.

Dean’s eyes widened in horror as he shouted, “Cas, no!”

Ignoring his friend, Castiel was just about to plunge the blade into Sam’s chest, when suddenly there was a shrill cry and a thud at the other side of the room. Castiel blinked down at the man in front of him and dropped his blade. “No,” was all he could manage to say.

When Dean was certain that his brother was alright, and his friend was back to normal, he turned to look at Death, who was standing beside Rowena’s remains on the ground.

The being merely shrugged. “You’re lucky I was in a good mood,” he said, “or I might have let the witch succeed.” He disappeared without another word, leaving the room silent.

Dean tried to catch his breath as he turned to look back at his brother and Castiel in the corner. Sam was seemingly unharmed, though he looked more tired than Dean had seen him in a long time. 

Castiel backed away from the younger Winchester, shaking his head. “Sam, I-”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam interrupted, breathless as he moved to stand. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“What the hell happened?” Dean asked, looking decidedly at his brother, because he wasn’t sure he could face Cas yet.

“Rowena,” Sam said. “We went through with the spell, but it was so powerful, it knocked me and Cas unconscious for a bit. It was enough time for Rowena to cast that attack-dog spell on Cas, and she made him kill Crowley.”

Dean widened his eyes, then knit his brows. “Wait, how in the hell could that spell have worked on an angel?”

Sam shifted his gaze to Castiel for a moment, frowning when he looked back at Dean. “It didn’t have to.”

 _No_ , Dean thought. _Please, no_. “Cas,” he began softly, barely bringing himself to look at his friend, “what happened to your grace?”

Castiel stared at the ground as he said, “It was an ingredient in the spell to remove the mark. It’s gone.”

Dean bit his tongue, cursing himself in his mind as he looked down. “You… You’re human. Because of me.”

“I’m human, yes. Permanently, it would seem.”

Unable to look up, Dean clenched his jaw and shook his head. “We need to clean this up,” he muttered, “and get the hell out of here.”

 

. . . . . . . . . .

 

They were cleaning up the bunker when Castiel said, “I’m sorry, Sam.”

Sam looked up from a box of books, frowning. “For what?”

“I…,” Cas shook his head with a sigh. “I nearly killed you.”

Before his brother could respond, Dean let out a bitter laugh and tossed a broken piece of shelving into the pile he’d started. “You _would_ apologize for something that isn’t your fault.”

Castiel looked at Dean. “Dean, I-”

“No,” Dean said, turning to face his friend as he shook his head. “No, you don’t get to do that. You didn’t do anything wrong, you hear me? Not a _damn_ thing.” He made fists with his hands, swallowing hard before adding, “ _I_ almost killed _you_.”

Cas blinked, frowning at the hunter. “That wasn’t your fault, either. You were fighting the mark-”

“I should’ve fought harder!”

Sam stood up, the screech of his chair earning him the attention of the others in the room. “Would you two stop competing about who screwed up the most?” he said, annoyed. “Look, _both_ of you did something wrong, but _both_ of you weren’t under your own control.” He looked at Castiel. “I don’t blame you for what _Rowena_ forced you to do. Hell, you killed Crowley. I might have to congratulate you for that.” Turning to his brother, Sam looked Dean in the eye and said, “Dean, you saw what the mark did to Cain. Even after centuries of having it under control, he snapped. You didn’t even have it long enough to learn how to manage it properly. Yeah, you did a lot of crap you shouldn’t have. But it _wasn’t your fault_. I’m trying to be happy that the three of us are still alive, will you let me have that?”

The room was silent for a moment before Dean looked to Castiel and said, “I’m glad we’re all here, man, but… I can’t be happy knowing that you’re human because of me. Because I was dumb enough to take that stupid m-”

“ _Dean_ ,” Castiel interrupted, taking a few steps toward the hunter. “I don’t regret giving up my grace. It was to save you.”

“Yeah, well,” Dean forced a chuckle, “maybe I’m tired of being the damsel in distress you gotta sacrifice everything for.”

“I would do it again,” Cas said, his voice firm and his eyes watering. “I would rather have a limited time here with you than be stuck living for centuries in a world without you.”

Dean stared back at Castiel, his eyes wide as his mouth went dry. After a few seconds of hazel eyes locked on blue, Dean blinked and looked away when he heard his brother’s footsteps.

“I’m just gonna… move this… box,” Sam said, leaving the room as quickly as possible, earning an eyeroll from Dean.

“Dean, I…” Castiel sucked in a breath. “I want to stay here, this time. If you’ll let me.”

The pang of guilt that struck Dean’s heart made him back up and shake his head. “I will never tell you to leave again,” he said, his voice breaking. “That was… I didn’t want you to-”

“I know,” Castiel said, nodding. “It was Gadreel.”

Dean nodded, looking down.

After a moment, Castiel stepped closer to Dean and bit his lip. “Dean, can I… admit something to you?”

Taking a deep breath, Dean gave a single nod. “‘Course.”

“Dean, I…” Cas trailed off, dropping his head with a sigh. “Being human, it’s… I have the same feelings that I always do, mostly, but… stronger. And with the fragility of human life, I don’t want to pretend any longer that I don’t… That is, I need to say…” Meeting Dean’s gaze, Castiel licked his lips before stating, “I love you.”

It took Dean a few seconds to register what had just been said to him. He didn’t hear those words very often. And especially not in the context of… whatever context they had. Dean blinked back at Cas, his breath getting shorter as he tried to figure out exactly what kind of love his friend was confessing. Cas had stepped a lot closer to him than he needed to be, but, then, he’d always had trouble with the concept of personal space. Still… 

Castiel looked deeply at the hunter, then thinned his lips and looked down. His voice was barely above a broken whisper as he said, “Dean…”

“Do you want to kiss me right now?” Dean finally said, forcing the question out before he could find a reason to hold it back. “Because you’re standing right in front of me, and I feel like, if one of us doesn’t make a move, we’ll go back to the way it’s always been with this stupid game of-”

Castiel cut Dean off with a kiss, pressing his lips softly against the hunter’s for a mere two seconds before pulling back. He met Dean’s startled gaze and said, “I would _very much_ like to kiss you right now.”

Dean sucked in a breath, beaming before he kissed the man in his arms again. “Good.”

**Author's Note:**

> I don't want Crowley to die okay I love him but I feel like that's gonna happen so wOOPS sorry.


End file.
